


That Sweet Enemy

by krikkiter68



Category: The Thick Of It
Genre: Aggression, Angst, BDSM, Explicit Sex, F/F, F/M, Homophobic Verbal Abuse, Horror Film Imagery, Insecurity, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Office themed missiles, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Pony Play, Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Slash, Spanking, Verbal Abuse, Violence, Violent Thoughts, Voyeurism, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1892001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krikkiter68/pseuds/krikkiter68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ollie's having a bad day.  Then it gets worse.  Then better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by great Malcolm/Emma drabble on Tumblr, ‘Poem on Malcolm’s Desk’ by TheCrazyGeek and in response to Tumblr prompts from anonymous - Malcolm/Ollie/Emma – jealousy/sexual tension. Thanks to both of you! :)
> 
> No profit has been made or is intended from this fiction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Ollie, overdosing on sugar and caffeine, finally snaps.

All in all, Ollie thought, missing breakfast that morning had been a bad move. It was 11.40am and he was frantically compiling his report for the noon briefing. A great chasm of emptiness seemed to fill his abdomen, and his face felt very hot. Beads of sweat pearled on his forehead. He flinched as someone touched his shoulder.

‘Ollie?’ Robyn said. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?’

‘Yeah,’ Ollie said. ‘Black coffee. Strong as you can make it.’

She gave him a sympathetic look, and walked off. 

Dammit, he thought. She’s actually making coffee. I must look really bad.

Ten minutes later, he was gulping back painfully hot strong coffee and scrolling frantically through his work. His overheated blood seemed to freeze, suddenly, as he gazed at Page 7.

Shit, he thought. I’ve got to ask Malcolm about point 5. The way my day’s going, he’s probably gonna rip my head off for asking.

His knees felt very weak as he stood up. Avoiding the curious stares of his co-workers, he headed to the kitchen, opened a cupboard and took a handful of sugar cubes from the packet, shoving them in his mouth and crunching on them as he headed down the corridor.

Keep calm, he thought, breathing hard. This’ll keep you going. Think positive thoughts. Meeting Emma later, focus on that…yeah, sex, that’ll be good…

An image from their last encounter – Emma, naked on her hands and knees on her bedroom carpet, gasping as he thrust into her from behind – swam into his mind. He gulped as fresh adrenaline sluiced into his bloodstream, lust mixing with fear and anger, his heart beating fast.

He knocked on Malcolm’s door. There was no answer, so he tried the doorknob, completely unprepared for what he saw next.

Malcolm was lying full length in the worn-out centre of the oriental carpet with Emma straddling his face, his slender hands gripping her soft, rounded hips under her ruched-up skirt. Emma was gasping, head tipped backwards in pleasure, her blonde hair cascading to the small of her back as Malcolm licked her frantically between her legs. She turned her head and looked straight into Ollie’s eyes.

‘Oh…hello, Ollie,’ she said, distractedly.

Ollie’s jaw dropped, and he quickly stepped backwards out of Malcolm’s office and closed the door. He raked a trembling hand through his black curls and leaned back against the wall.

‘You alright, Ollie?’ Glenn asked as he walked past.

‘Yeah. Yeah! I’m fine, thanks, mate,’ Ollie said just a little too loudly, shaking.

Glenn gave him a narrow, concerned glance, then walked off. 

Fucking hell, Ollie thought. This is probably the worst day of my life.

 

The meeting was finally over. Ollie pretended to read his phone screen as the others filed out. He looked at his watch: 5pm. All he’d had to eat in that time was a couple of biscuits, a glass of orange juice, and more black coffee, and the extra sugar and caffeine had worsened his mood. Finally alone, he stood up, thrust his hands into his trouser pockets and stalked off towards Malcolm’s office.

I’ve got nothing, he thought. No friends, no interests, no love, nothing outside of this office and whatever it is I’ve got with Emma. I feel like that guy from fucking ‘Scanners’. Any second now my head’s gonna explode and pebble-dash the walls with my brain.

And, he thought, his heart rate accelerating, it’s all Malcolm’s fault. He’s sucked my life out, like a fucking vampire, he’s even taken the sex. He’s sucked out my blood and castrated me. Well, I want my fucking bollocks back, Tucker…

He grabbed the doorknob of Malcolm’s office and strode in, slamming the door. Malcolm abruptly ceased pacing the carpet and glared at him. Wild-eyed, hair standing on end, Ollie looked at once absurd and frightening, like an axe-wielding, murderous elf.

‘YOU’RE A TOTAL CUNT, MALCOLM!’ Ollie screamed. 

‘Weeell, thanks for that, Christopher fuckin’ Robin,’ Malcolm snapped. ‘What’s up with ye? Tired an’ emotional ‘cause it’s past your fuckin’ bedtime?’

‘I’ve got no time for your shit, Malcolm! You’re fucking my – I mean, I saw Emma sitting on your sneering Skeletor-face!’

Malcolm grinned, savagely.

‘Yeah, what can I say, the lass was havin’ such a great fuckin’ time, I didnae have the heart to stop…’

Ollie grabbed a heavy green glass paperweight from Malcolm’s desk and hurled it straight at his head. It missed Malcolm’s skull by millimetres and shattered as it hit the opposite wall.

‘Ah, fuck. Look, Ollie mate…’ Malcolm said, dodging a succession of files, cups, saucers and hardback notebooks, ‘calm the fuck – ow! – down would ye?’

‘I’m not your FUCKING mate, Malcolm!’ Ollie shrieked, practically foaming at the mouth as he pelted Malcolm with stationery.

‘Fuck! Alright – I’m sorry, OK?!’ Malcolm said, ducking to avoid a heavy-duty stapler.

Ollie paused at the unfamiliar word ‘sorry’, and leaned forward heavily on Malcolm’s desk, breathing hard. Suddenly, he felt exhausted, dark spots dancing in his field of vision.

Oh fuck, he thought. Don’t let me faint. Not here. He’ll have me stuffed and mounted on the fucking wall. 

‘Why don’t ye sit down, son? Ye look fuckin’ terrible,’ Malcolm said, sounding sincere.

Flummoxed, Ollie stumbled over to Malcolm’s vast leather chair, and collapsed onto it. Malcolm, composed once more, gazed steadily at him.

‘Right. Let’s apply some fuckin’ logic here. Are ye in love with Emma?’

‘Oh Malcolm, you know I’m not!’ Ollie groaned.

‘Hate her? Is it a twisted fuckin' psycho head trip?’

‘No…well, I hate her politics, but she’s OK.’

‘Right,’ said Malcolm, ‘so why are ye with her?’

Ollie rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

‘Because you told me to fuck her to get secrets out of the Opposition. You fucking bullied me into it, as you know perfectly well.’

Malcolm glared at him but decided not to press the point. He’d liked that paperweight.

‘And I suppose,’ Ollie continued, ‘the sex is great, she’s beautiful, she can be quite fun provided she doesn’t talk politics…’

‘Right. So,’ Malcolm said, steepling his fingers under his chin, ‘it’s a fuckin’ fling, then?’

‘…Yeah.’

Malcolm went to the desk, and opened a drawer, pulling out a small packet.

‘Missed fuckin’ breakfast, didn’t ye? Have some Macademia nuts,’ he said, handing it to Ollie.

Ollie grabbed the packet off him, tore it open and poured the nuts into his mouth. He had never been so pleased to get some protein in his life.

‘Now, I hesitate to say this ‘cause I don’t want ye trashing my fuckin’ office again, but isn’t it possible ye’ve overreacted?’

‘S’pose so,’ Ollie said, munching.

‘And I realise ye’re stressed – fuck, it couldn’t be more obvious – and seein’ her pole-dancing on my tongue must have been triggerin’ for ye?’

‘Yeah.’

‘We’ll say no more about it. Take a few days off, mate.’

‘Yeah. Will do.’

‘Good lad.’

Malcolm leaned towards him, a smile spreading across his face.

‘Oh, and before ye go, there’s just one more thing…’


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General warning for violence and very rough (though consensual) sex in this chapter. Ollie's feelings for Malcolm are pretty complicated...

Malcolm paused, his smile turning feral as he placed his hands on the chair either side of Ollie’s torso, and loomed over him.

‘…I made her come five times. Talk about consortin’ with the fuckin’ enemy.’

‘Fuck you!’ Ollie snarled.

And then his eyes widened as Malcolm’s lips collided with his, and Malcolm’s whisky-flavoured tongue roughly invaded his mouth. For a second, Ollie wanted to push him away, then realised with a shock that was the last thing he wanted to do. 

Malcolm’s thin yet powerful arms were around him, long fingers jabbing into his ribs as Ollie kissed him back, clinging onto him as his senses blazed back into savage life. Malcolm was pulling at his shirt, now, sliding a palm against his chest as his blood sang in his ears, panic and excitement blooming at breakneck speed across his psyche, and it felt like drowning.

Malcolm grabbed hold of Ollie’s wrists and pinned them down against the chair, gripping hard enough to bruise. Ollie whimpered into his mouth, and he could feel Malcolm grinning as he broke away.

‘Feelin’ fuckin’ better then?’ Malcolm murmured, nipping Ollie’s ear lobe.

Ollie moaned. God, Malcolm seemed to know erogenous zones he didn’t even know he had. One of Malcolm’s hard, slender thighs was pressing firmly against his groin, stroking his cock into full hardness, and Ollie pressed forward, unable to resist.

‘Fuck off, Malcolm, I hate you…’ Ollie mumbled.

‘Yeah, right,’ Malcolm rumbled in Ollie’s ear, releasing his grip on his wrists and sliding them upward, ‘that’ll be why ye’re humpin’ my fuckin’ leg, ya perverted wee slag. What if the lass walked in now and saw how much ye fuckin’ want me, eh?’ he whispered. 

‘Bastard,’ Ollie muttered, as he felt Malcolm’s palms sliding under his unbuttoned shirt, and moaned as the pads of his fingers gently circled his nipples. Malcolm paused, then pinched, hard. Ollie screamed, his back arching as pain scorched through him.

He lashed out, landing a glancing blow to Malcolm’s jaw. Malcolm reeled back, holding his face, staring at him, the two of them panting hard. Ollie’s breath hitched; in that second, Malcolm looked insanely beautiful, a vengeful god.

Then Malcolm shoved him backward against the chair and kissed him again, savagely, biting his lower lip hard. Ollie’s head reeled as he tasted his own blood. Then Malcolm broke away, his fingers twisting in Ollie’s curls.

‘That the best ye can do, cunt?’ he murmured. ‘Fuckin’ scratch me? It’s about time I fuckin’ declawed ye. Turn the fuck around.’

Ollie twisted until he was lying face down on the chair, his heart pounding. Malcolm seized his wrists from behind. A drawer was opened, then Ollie shuddered as he felt cold metal cuffs sliding over his skin and clicking shut. Christ, he thought, he actually keeps bondage accessories in here.

Malcolm reached around to undo Ollie’s trousers, then roughly pulled them down along with his underwear. Ollie’s cock, pressed against warm black leather, throbbed uncomfortably as he heard a condom packet being torn. He felt Malcolm pressing up behind him, breathing hot against his face.

‘D’ya want it, ya little whore? Beg me for it,’ Malcolm growled.

Ollie nodded, his cheeks burning.

‘Didnae hear ye properly, Oliver. Ya need tae give fuckin’ consent. I’m not that much of a cunt…’

‘Shut up and fuck me,’ Ollie gasped.

‘Tha’s more like it,’ Malcolm murmured.

Ollie cried out as Malcolm’s lubed cock invaded and stretched him and kept going until he felt hot skin pressing against his buttocks. It hurt, and he loved it. Malcolm kissed the back of his neck, then licked a warm, wet stripe from nape to hairline.

‘So fuckin’ tight,’ Malcolm muttered, his voice ragged, ‘not fer long, though.’

Ollie gritted his teeth as Malcolm fucked him, pulling out nearly all the way before plunging back in again. Malcolm’s hand was fisted in his hair, yanking it painfully with each outstroke. His cock rubbed against the increasingly slippery leather. 

‘I should fuckin’ leave ya cuffed here,’ Malcolm snarled, ‘come leakin’ out of yer scrawny arse, let the cleaners throw you out with the rest of the fuckin’ rubbish, yer piece of trash…’

Ollie whimpered as Malcolm’s free hand came cracking down on his backside, gasping as Malcolm thrust faster, cock pressing hard against his prostate. Any second now, he was going to come, and come hard.

‘More,’ Ollie gasped, ‘tear me apart…’

He winced as Malcolm whacked him harder, shaking uncontrollably as he imagined Malcolm’s cock thrusting inside him up to the hilt. Then Malcolm’s cock hit his prostate again, pulsing inside him and he lost control, crying out as he came unstoppably over warm, wet leather.

He slumped, exhausted, against the chair. Malcolm pulled out of him, roughly, and he felt his wrists being uncuffed and released. He looked up and saw Malcolm glaring at him.

‘Right, ye got what ye came for,’ Malcolm growled. ‘Now, get the fuck out.’

Ollie stood up on shaking legs, pulling up his trousers and underwear, then walked out of Malcolm’s trashed office without a word.

He walked down the mercifully-empty corridors, sore and aching, and ran his tongue cautiously over his swollen, bitten lower lip, unable to stop a grin spreading across his face.

Well, he thought. That was…that was fucking brilliant…


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ollie has some explaining to do.

Emma was sitting on the sofa watching TV when the front door slammed. Her mouth fell open as Ollie swayed in, pale as a ghost, his clothes in disarray, hair askew and his lower lip split and swollen.

‘My God,’ she said, ‘what the hell’s happened to you? Have you been mugged?’

He collapsed leggily onto the sofa beside her, and raked a hand through his curls.

‘A bit of a disagreement with Malcolm. Nothing serious.’

She took his long, trembling right hand in hers and her breath caught as she saw the bruising and the red, crescent-shaped nail marks on the underside of his bony, pallid wrist.

‘Ollie, you can’t let him treat you like this! It’s assault! You’ve got to report him, surely?’

‘Yeah, Ems, but the thing is…’

She was gazing at him, and his heart sank to see the concern on her face. Christ, she actually cares about me, he thought. But Malc’s right, it’s just a fling. Fuck it, she deserves to know the truth. 

He let out a long, shaky breath.

‘…the thing is, we had sex in his office…very rough sex. Please don’t hate me.’

She picked up a cushion and thumped him with it. Ollie winced as his bruises started smarting again, his nerves jangling. 

‘For Christ’s sake!’ she shouted. ‘Why didn’t you just tell me you’re gay? And how long have you and Malcolm been together?’

She threw herself back against her seat and scowled.

‘I’m sharing you with another man. Fucking brilliant! Better than me, is he?’

Ollie touched her shoulder.

‘We’re not together, we’re not even friends. I didn’t intend it, we just…had a fight, and it just sort of…happened. It was a fight over you, actually.’

Emma looked at him, her expression softening slightly. 

‘When I saw you sitting on his face, I just…got really jealous. You looked so gorgeous, and…he was enjoying the lovely way you taste and I wasn’t, and I couldn’t stand it…’

He started awkwardly caressing her hair. She sighed.

‘So, do you prefer men or women? You may as well tell me.’

‘I’m bisexual, Ems. I always have been.’

‘There’s no such thing,’ she said, pouting slightly. 

‘And yet, as if by magic, there’s a bisexual guy on this very sofa.’ Ollie said, with heavy sarcasm. ‘Right here in front of you. I’m not some made-up entity, like the fucking Tooth Fairy, am I?’

She looked hurt, and he felt immediate remorse. 

‘Oh...look, I’m sorry, OK? It’s been a complex sort of day. I’ll cook something, yeah?’

 

Much later, Emma was lying back against the pillows of her double bed, reading a romance novel. She looked up to see Ollie walking in, freshly showered and wearing her white towelling gown that looked ridiculously short on him. She smiled, and he grinned wanly back at her. 

‘Hey, you,’ she said, patting the rose-patterned duvet beside her.

Ollie crawled onto the bed and lay beside her, resting his head on her full breasts. She ran her fingers through his still slightly damp black curls. He looked very young and vulnerable in her arms.

‘Take it off,’ she murmured.

Ollie shucked off the dressing gown, and she took a sharp intake of breath at the sight of the bruises and scratches across his long, pale body.

‘Christ. Did it really hurt?’

‘Yeah. But the thing is…’ Ollie started, tailing off.

‘Is it Confession Time again?’ she murmured, teasing him slightly. He giggled.

‘Yeah. Well…thing is, I like being hurt during sex, sometimes.’

Her hand slid down his back.

‘Would you like us to play some games together?’ she murmured into his hair. ‘Would you like me to spank you?’

His breath hitched.

‘God, yeah. Spank me, bite me, whip me, ride me round the bedroom…anything you like. I’d fucking love it.’

‘Hmm,’ she whispered, and he shuddered with delight as her soft hand closed around his stiffening cock, ‘I can tell.’

He twisted his head around, and kissed her.

‘But not tonight,’ he whispered. ‘Tonight, I want you sitting on my face as I fuck you with my tongue. Climb aboard.’


	4. Chapter 4

Emma giggled as she seized Ollie’s shoulders and pushed him down onto the bed. He smiled up at her.

‘Good start,’ he murmured.

She straddled his face, spreading her thighs wide apart, and heard his breath hitching.

‘Christ. That’s beautiful. You’re so wet…’

Emma lowered herself, shuddering with pleasure as his tongue slid inside her, and felt him hum appreciatively as she sank down further, until she felt his nose pressing hard against her clit. She closed her eyes as she felt him fuck her with his tongue. It wasn’t quite as long or skilled as Malcolm’s, she thought, but his muffled moans of greedy enthusiasm were exciting her. His face was practically buried in her and she wondered how kinky he really was.

She raised herself slightly and heard him inhale sharply. His face was flushed and shining, his lips reddened, and she reached down and seized a fistful of black curls, pressing his eager mouth against her, closing her eyes in pleasure as he alternated between suckling and flicking his tongue against her aching nub. She wondered if he was competing with Malcolm, then decided, as his long, fine hands grasped her buttocks and squeezed gently, that she didn’t really care.

She rode his face faster, tightening her grip in his curls, and the moan he gave in response excited her. He clearly loved being dominated. A rogue image of Malcolm roughly fucking Ollie from behind over his desk whilst yanking his hair swam into her mind, causing a flood of completely unexpected desire to scorch through her system, and she moaned loudly. She felt one of Ollie’s hands stroking over her skin and between her legs, and she parted her thighs further, eagerly.

Two of his fingers stroked across her wet folds before sliding easily and fully inside her, and she gasped as he crooked them: oh yes, he was good at this. His mouth was working against her, and she closed her eyes, this time imagining Ollie on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back, reddened lips wrapped around Malcolm’s thrusting cock. She bucked against Ollie’s fingers, stars bursting behind her eyelids as she came explosively, crying out.

Emma leaned forward on her elbows, blonde hair flooding across the pillow as she recovered, fluttering pleasurably as Ollie gently slid his fingers from her body. He smirked up at her.

‘Sounded like you were enjoying that,’ he said. He placed his soaked fingers in his mouth and sucked them, suggestively. Emma’s heart beat a little faster at the sight.

‘Yeah. Thanks, Ollie, it was great,’ she said. 

‘C’mere,’ he said, pulling her down towards him as he kissed her. She flinched as she tasted herself in his mouth, then found to her surprise she liked the taste. Her skin prickled.

Ollie broke the kiss, leaving a trail of kisses up to the shell of her ear.

‘Fancy another round?’ he whispered, urgently.

‘Yeah,’ she murmured, her legs trembling, ‘your turn, now.’

Emma reversed herself on him, coming face to face with his long, slender cock, pressed hard against his stomach. She lowered herself onto his face once more, and took him in hand, stroking his length with her tongue.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Ollie murmured into her folds as she took him inside her mouth.

She pressed forward, taking him deeper, shivering as his tongue worked against her once more. His hands were stroking softly across her full buttocks, and it felt gorgeous. She spread her legs further, and once again her mind started wandering.

This time, she was on her knees in Malcolm’s office, sucking his cock as he wrapped his long fingers in her hair and pulled gently. She was straddling someone and they were licking her between her legs, soft hands stroking her inner thighs under her sensible, ruched-up pencil skirt.

Ollie moaned against her, breaking the fantasy as he thrust three fingers inside her and crooked them against her G spot once more. She closed her eyes. God, she was close…

This time, she was bent over Malcolm’s desk as Malcolm thrust hard inside her from behind, as someone kissed her, silky dark hair obscuring her vision. Malcolm was fucking her harder, practically lifting her feet off the floor with the force of his thrusts. She gasped as she imagined him slapping her buttocks. She let Ollie's cock slip from her mouth, to a soft murmur of protest from him.

‘Oh God!’ she moaned. ‘Spank me, Mal…Ollie!’

‘Mmmm…?’

‘Just do it! Please!’ she gasped. 

She took him back inside and moaned as Ollie spanked her, once, twice, and then she was coming, fluttering around his drenched fingers as his cock jerked and spurted into her mouth.

They lay exhausted for a few moments. Then Emma clambered up the bed to lie next to Ollie. He laid his tousled head in the crook of her neck and fell asleep almost immediately. Emma watched him sleeping, and wondered if they’d both been thinking about Malcolm.


	5. Chapter 5

It was 8pm, and Malcolm was working late when he heard a faint knocking at the door.

‘Come the fuck in,’ he barked. 

Christ, he thought, hope it’s not fuckin’ Ben Swain again. He’d been his usual idiot self all day.

His eyes widened when Emma stepped into the office. She twirled as she closed the door, giving him a flash of her white knickers underneath her very short navy A-line mini-skirt. He gulped.

‘Ah, hi Emma, pet, how can I help ye?’ he said, setting his pen down.

She grinned coyly at him. Ah fuck, he thought, studying her unbuttoned white blouse, baby-blue silk tie, long blonde ponytail, black hold-up stockings and high heels, is she going to a fancy-dress party?

‘Just wondered if you wanted to give me a disciplinary…Sir?’ she said, pouting. 

She leaned forward on his desk, and he could see her pupils dilating in her beautiful, crystal-blue eyes. He leaned back in his chair and laughed, incredulously.

‘Jesus,’ he wheezed, ‘Ye’ve been fuckin’ walkin’ around the department dressed like that?! Ye daft bitch!’

‘But I want it,’ she said, breathily, displaying her considerable cleavage.

He studied her, steepling his hands under his chin, smiling at her. He couldn’t deny she looked very sexy, in a tacky sort of way. His cock was stiffening in his pants already.

‘What do ye want, love?’

‘My name’s Emma, Sir. I want you to spank me. And then…’ she said, ‘I want you to fuck me.’

Malcolm bit back the urge to laugh. Generally speaking (Ollie notwithstanding, who he considered to be a complete slut for pain anyway) he preferred being on the receiving end of punishments, and God, Sam was an excellent and inventive spanker. And the same went for Jamie. Still, he thought, whatever the lassie wants…

‘Alright, Emma,’ he said. ‘What’s yer safeword?’

‘Thatcher,’ she said.

Oh fuck, he thought, that’s a passion-killer and a half. He stood up, and started as she took hold of his tie and drew him close to her.

‘Kiss me, Sir,’ she purred.

And her lips were on his, urgent, demanding, as he wrapped his arms around her back, stroking down her spine, her shudder reverberating all the way through him. Christ, he thought, as her hands tugged his shirt free from his trousers, she fuckin’ wants me…what the fuck does she get out of this, it’ll go fuckin’ nowhere…

Emma broke away and placed her palms flat on his desk. Malcolm walked behind her, then bent forward until his chest was pressed against her back. He kissed her neck, sighing aloud as she bucked against his erection.

‘Ah, lass…would ye mind leanin’ thirty degrees to yer left? No, that way. Yeah, tha’s right…now, spread yer legs, yer naughty minx…’

She let out a moan at his last words, and did as he asked. He had a wonderful view of her gorgeous buttocks, and he could see that her knickers were already soaked. Christ, he could smell her musky scent, and it was turning him on beyond belief. He suppressed the urge to moan: she didn’t want him vulnerable, now, she wanted him in charge.

He roughly pulled down her knickers to her knees, leaving her exposed. She turned her head and gazed at him, and his heart thumped at the sheer level of want in her expression. He reached out, stroking a loose section of hair behind her ear. 

‘Please spank me, Sir,’ she breathed.

He caressed her right buttock, spreading warmth and enjoying its firmness before raising his hand and bringing it down in a gentle smack. Emma gasped.

‘Harder, Sir!’

He spanked her again, harder, and she bucked into his touch. He started spanking her with alternating hands with increasing force, and she moaned and keened with each slap; when his palm contacted her cunt by accident, he felt it soaking. Fucking hell, he thought, his mind reeling, she and Ollie are as fuckin’ masochistic as each other.

Eventually, Emma collapsed forward against his desk and breathed out her unfortunate safeword . He caressed her hot, reddened buttocks, breathing hard.

‘Fuck. Are ye OK, love?’

‘Mmm. Fantastic. I want you to fuck me, Malcolm.’

‘Aye. Hang on a minute…’

Malcolm scooted round to his desk drawer and pulled out a condom packet, ripping it open and sheathing himself. He took hold of Emma’s buttocks again and leaned over her, delivering a single fervent kiss to her neck before plunging inside her hot, soaking depths.

‘Fuck,’ he snarled into her hair, ‘spread yer fuckin’ legs, I want ye tae fuckin’ come…’

She spread her legs, and he pressed the pads of his fingers against her clit, stroking furiously as he thrust inside her. He pinched her nipples with his free hand, and she cried out. 

‘Fuck me,’ she moaned. ‘Take me. God, I just want your cock…’

‘Tha’s all ye’ll fuckin’ get from me, sweetheart,’ he ground out, as he fucked her harder, gripping onto her until she screamed and rippled around him. He closed his eyes as he came hard inside her.

He collapsed against her back, gasping, the two of them not moving for several moments. He kissed her neck.

‘Eh…darlin’, that was very entertaining, but I’ve got tae get back tae work, now,’ he said in her ear. 

He withdrew from her, then took a spare trenchcoat from the coat rack.

‘Put this on, ye don’t wanna look tae conspicious,’ he said, handing it to her.

‘Thanks,’ she said, smiling faintly as she put the coat on. She turned on her heel and left the office without a word.

Malcolm waited until she had gone, then turned the concealed camera on the desk to face him.

‘How was that, Sam darlin’?’

‘Very hot,’ Sam sighed. ‘It made me come. You’ve been such a naughty boy, haven’t you? And she’s a glutton for punishment, isn’t she?’

‘Ye could say that, yeah.’

‘Well, it looks like I’m gonna have to teach you both a lesson, doesn’t it?’


	6. Chapter 6

Ollie looked at his watch. It was 7.55pm: good, he thought, as he switched on his computer. They’ll be starting soon. He reached down and cupped his burgeoning erection for a couple of seconds, then, with painstaking slowness, started unzipping his jeans.

 

Sam, dressed in her black leather corset, fishnet stockings and killer stilettos, her dark hair gathered into a high ponytail, stroked a gloved hand down the length of her black riding crop and smiled. She turned a calm gaze over her two captives: Malcolm, tied hand and foot to a chair, and Emma, in her schoolgirl outfit, blouse undone to reveal full, milky breasts in a black balconette bra, kneeling on the floor, wrists cuffed behind her back.

‘Leave me out of your little game, did you?’ she murmured. ‘How rude of you.’

She stalked over to Emma, enjoying the way the young woman shuddered as she stroked the leather tip of the crop up and down her spine.

‘It’s my turn now,’ she purred, ‘and you’re going to do everything I say.’

Sam turned, letting Emma and Malcolm revel at her full, gorgeously rounded buttocks as she shimmied over to the desk. She turned around and leaned against it, planting her feet wide apart.

‘You’re going to make me come, using just your mouth, and he’s gonna watch you,’ she murmured. ‘Come here. Now.’ 

Emma, cheeks flushed, still on her knees, stumbled over towards her.

‘Jesus fuck,’ Malcolm murmured. 

To Sam’s considerable satisfaction, she could see his hard cock outlined in his black trousers. She smiled at him.

‘Patience, Malcolm,’ she said quietly. 

She looked down into the big, crystalline-blue eyes gazing up at her, then reached down and started stroking the smooth golden hair.

‘Such a good girl,’ she cooed. 

Sam felt Emma’s warm lips against her mound, moving a touch hesitantly at first, then growing in confidence as she kissed lower. Her mouth fell open as Emma delivered a full kiss to her soaking pussy. She moaned.

‘Oh, God, that’s so good,’ she murmured. ‘More…’

She could see Malcolm, face flushed and panting, straining against his bonds, and gave him another smile; she had him exactly where she wanted him.

‘You know the rule, Malcolm,’ she said firmly. ‘Ladies first.’

Emma’s tongue was twirling around her swollen clit, now, and Sam’s fingers tightened in her hair. God, she’s got hidden talent, she thought.

‘That’s it,’ she gasped, as she pressed Emma’s face harder against her, her hips rocking. ‘Keep going…’

Sam felt sexy, powerful, her heart pounding as Emma licked her, faster and faster, wanting to taste every inch of her. She spread her legs further still, and gasped as Emma suddenly took her clit into her mouth and sucked, hard.

‘God, yeah, that’s it…yeessss…’ she hissed. ‘Do it…’

She threw her head back and came with a loud yell, hips jerking, stars bursting, before slumping back against the desk. She placed her hand on the top of Emma’s head.

‘Enough now. You did well.’

Emma smiled up at her. God, she’s beautiful, Sam thought. She stroked her moist cheek.

‘I think someone’s feeling neglected, don’t you?’ she said.

‘Oh Christ,’ Malcolm said, shakily. ‘Please…’

Sam patted Emma on the head.

‘Go over to him,’ she said. Emma crawled over to Malcolm on her knees, then turned and looked expectantly at Sam. Sam smiled, and opened one of the desk drawers. Emma’s eyes grew wide.

‘Like it? It’s a double-ended dildo, sweetheart, and I’m going to fuck you with it. Is that OK with you?’

Emma nodded speechlessly: God, it was huge. Sam walked over to her and removed her cuffs.

‘Now, undo Malcolm’s trousers, take his cock out and suck it, please. And Malcolm?’

‘Yeah, sweetheart?’ he gasped.

‘No coming until we do, OK?’

‘Fuck,’ Malcolm intoned, as Emma started unzipping his trousers with unsteady hands.

Sam strapped on the dildo, relishing the stretch inside her pussy, and smiled to see Malcolm’s head lolling back as Emma took his hard cock inside her mouth.

‘God,’ Malcolm groaned as she swallowed him all the way down, ‘ye’re fuckin’ good at this, lass.’

Sam, crop in hand knelt behind Emma and started feeding the other end of the dildo inside her. Emma moaned around Malcolm’s cock as she felt the stretch, bucking gently until it was sheathed inside her. Sam paused, eyes closed, as the dildo pressed hard all the way inside her. Then she withdrew nearly all the way, then plunged inside Emma, hard. Emma’s hips bucked, and she moaned as Sam flicked her buttocks with the crop. Malcolm moaned loudly, caressed by Emma’s lips as Sam sped up, the three of them lost in each other. Sam’s lips parted.

‘Oh God…’ she moaned. ‘I’m…I’m fucking coming…’

 

Ollie, watching Sam writhing and thrusting, her lips opening wide to scream, pumped his cock at a furious pace.

‘Fuck!’ he moaned as ribbons of come landed on his stomach. ‘Sam…!’


	7. Chapter 7

‘Fuck’s sake, Malc,’ Jamie snapped, lunging towards Malcolm, ‘ye’ve had that long enough. I wanna see them…’

Malcolm laughed as he held the tablet above his head, too far for Jamie to reach, then lowered it, placing it between them on top of the duvet.

‘That close enough for ye, darlin’?’ Malcolm breathed in Jamie’s ear.

‘Aye, but don’t ye fuckin’ do that again, or I’ll fuckin’ punish ye,’ Jamie growled.

‘Mmm,’ Malcolm said, kissing Jamie’s neck, ‘is that a promise?’

‘Daft fucker,’ Jamie said, and Malcolm gasped as Jamie took hold of his cock and squeezed. ‘Let’s see what that kinky wee fuck’s up tae…’

 

Ollie was naked on all fours in Malcolm’s office. He shuddered with pleasure as the cool leather tip of Sam’s riding crop stroked down his spine with agonising slowness.

‘Have you been bad, Ollie?’ she murmured.

Head lowered, he nodded, teeth clenching on the rubber bit in his mouth. The black blinkers restricted his vision; all he could see was Emma, also on all fours, tethered hand and foot to a low couch in front of him, red welts criss-crossing her buttocks. He shuddered as Sam’s gloved hand tightened on the leather reins.

‘Frisky little colt. You need breaking in as well,’ she purred sexily, and he swelled still further at her voice.

Sam stroked the tip of her riding crop lightly over his buttocks and further down, down until it rested lightly against the warm skin of his balls, the pressure sending a bolt of pure fear and desire all the way through him. He squeezed his eyes shut, whined.

‘Pretty things,’ Sam said, casting an appraising gaze over the two of them. ‘You know what to do if it gets too much, don’t you, Ollie?’

Ollie slapped the floor with his palm three times. Sam applauded.

‘Good boy,’ she whispered.

Ollie closed his eyes as he heard the swish of the crop, then gasped, teeth biting into hard rubber as the first stinging blow landed across his buttocks. Sam swished the crop again, crosswise, striping another red line across Ollie’s pale skin. And then she did it again, and again, as Ollie gasped and grunted with pain and pleasure, long hands clawing at the Oriental rug on the floor.

Sam straightened up, gasping, then walked forward and knelt down next to Ollie, her soft fingers stroking through his black curls. She leaned forward and kissed a single tear off his reddened cheek.

‘Are you OK?’ she whispered.

Ollie nodded.

‘Good boy. I think you deserve a little reward, don’t you?’

He nodded again, and she grinned at the small whimpering sound he made. She reached underneath him, and he shuddered with pleasure as her cool, leather-clad hand closed around his aching length.

‘Thaaat’s it,’ she whispered, her voice caressing him as he started thrusting into her soft grip. ‘But the thing is, Malcolm’s very fond of this rug and he’d hate to see it ruined. You’re not to come, you hear me? Not until I raise my hand.’

Ollie let out a muffled curse. Sam grinned.

‘Language, Ollie!’

She glanced ahead of her, watching Emma writhing gently in her bonds, gasping with desire and frustration, the air filled with her honeyed scent. She bent forward and whispered in Ollie’s ear:

‘I think your little mare wants you, now. Do you think you’re ready to mate with her?’

Ollie nodded emphatically. Sam stood up.

‘Walk on,’ she said, swishing the reins. ‘And remember, no coming til I say.’

Ollie crawled forwards until his body was flush with Emma’s. Sam stood back, watching contentedly as he grasped Emma’s shoulders and thrust hard inside her. Emma threw her head back and shouted with pleasure.

‘That’s it,’ she murmured. ‘Make her come.’

Ollie reached down between Emma’s legs and his fingers started circling as she bucked against him.

 

‘Ohhh Jesus,’ Malcolm moaned, watching the three of them on the screen as Jamie stroked his cock at a furious pace, ‘that’s sae fuckin’ good.’

‘Them or me, ye auld cunt?’ Jamie gasped, eyes closing as Malcolm gripped and pumped his straining dick.

‘D’ye know what, it’s too close tae fuckin’ call…’ Malcolm said, and bit his lip as he stiffened still further, sensation sending him skyward.

‘Then shut up, OK, I want tae fuckin’ come…’ Jamie ground out, before spurting long and hard against Malcolm’s stomach. Malcolm gasped loudly as he came over Jamie’s hand.

 

Ollie let out a loud, muffled yell and came hard when Sam gave him the signal. He collapsed on top of Emma, exhaustion flooding through his system, the two of them sweating and panting. He buried his face in her blonde hair.

Sam reached forward and unbuckled the straps from his bridle, sliding the bit out from between his lips. Emma, looking blissed-out, flushed, pupils blown, turned her face to look at him. She’s come at least three times, he thought, his heartbeat still racing.

He bent down and kissed her.


	8. Chapter 8

Three months later

 

‘Oh, fuck!’ Ollie moaned, his back arching against the bed, ‘Emma…!’

‘Oh God!’ Emma cried out, shuddering around him as she came.

She flopped forwards, collapsing against him, her golden hair falling across his face. Ollie gasped, pulling at the restraints locking him to the brass bed. Emma gave a little moan, lifting herself up and sliding off his hugely swollen cock. She glanced downwards and gave him a half-smile.

‘Now, what shall I do?’ she said. ‘Shall I take it off?’

‘Oh Christ,’ Ollie moaned. ‘Please, darling, I’ve got to come…’

‘…or shall I leave it on? Leave you tied up here while I go to work?’

Ollie squeezed his eyes shut and moaned in disbelief, surrounded by the heavy, torturous air. She wouldn’t, surely…?

She gave a light laugh, then reached down and unclasped the cock ring. Ollie cried out as he came unstoppably, streaking his stomach with white. Emma looked down at him. Her face was in shadow, and he couldn’t read her expression.

‘That was fun, but I’ve got to get ready for work,’ she said.

‘Right,’ he said, watching her slightly anxiously as she collected her clothes from the floor, from the armchair, and started calmly dressing herself. She walked over to the table and picked up her bag.

‘Emma…?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ she said absently, walking over to him and untying him. She bent down and gave him a light kiss on the cheek before straightening up and walking to the door.

‘Love you,’ Ollie said quietly.

She walked out of the door and closed it behind her.

 

It was business as usual at DoSAC that day. Malcolm pushed him up against a wall and shouted at him for forgetting a briefing point, his thumb lingering for a long moment against his collarbone before easing his grip. Sam walked past him at one point and the two of them shared a small smile before she turned her head again. Jamie swore at him as per usual, and for a moment Ollie was tempted to mock Al Jolson again, just to see the fire spark up in those huge blue eyes. The memories of the sex they’d had together were beginning to fade, like dreams do. He left the office at 7pm, the sky dark, rain hitting his face. He turned up his collar and walked at a brisk clip to the Underground, heading home.

Ollie unlocked the door and walked in, clicking on the light switch. He checked the answerphone; there were no messages. Shucking off his long coat, he went over to the fridge and took out the marinated lamb.

An hour later, he set the table and lit the candles, and leaned back on the sofa. He was looking forward to it, he and Emma had scarcely had any time together for the last two months. She would be due any moment, and then they’d eat together, unwind and make each other laugh, her beautiful eyes sparking as she sipped the Merlot. And later, he thought, smiling, they’d have sex, and maybe she’d tie him up again…

But she didn’t turn up.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter of this story. To be continued in my next story.

Ollie left several messages on Emma’s answer phone, his heart sinking each time he heard her cheery voice inviting him to speak. He texted her, and she didn’t respond. After two days, he could take no more, and left the office at the end of the day, stalking through the rain and dark over to the Opposition offices.

He weaved his way through the corridors, ducking into a recess to avoid a furiously arguing Peter Mannion and Stuart, before rounding a corner and spotting Emma in a glass-box office. She was sitting at the desk, talking on the phone and laughing about something. He exhaled with relief: at least she’s OK, he thought. He waited until she put down the receiver, then knocked on the door.

‘Ollie? What are you doing here?’ she said, her brow furrowing as he walked in.

He dug his hands into his trouser pockets, and nervously cleared his throat.

‘I just…you didn’t answer my messages, and well, I was a bit worried…’

‘I’m fine, Ollie,’ she said. ‘Just a bit busy at the moment.’

‘And, and I was wondering, do you fancy coming out for a drink in a bit? Maybe, I dunno, catch a film?’

Her face fell.

‘Um, no, I’m sorry, I can’t, no.’

‘Why not?’ Ollie said, his back tensing up.

‘Because…because I’m seeing someone else,’ she said, looking down at the desk.

‘What? Who?’ Ollie said, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach.

‘J.B.’ she said.

‘Oh, Christ!’ Ollie exploded. ‘Not him! He’s a total fascist! God, Ems, you’re an intelligent woman – what the hell are you doing?!’

‘Ollie, please…please, just calm down, I know you’re upset…’ Emma said, standing and laying a hand on his arm. He brushed it off, and started pacing, furiously.

‘I can’t!’ he shouted. ‘I can’t bloody calm down because I fucking love you! If it were Malcolm, or Sam, or Jamie, I’d fucking understand, but him…! Why are you throwing yourself away like this? Just…just tell me, OK!’

Emma looked down at the floor, biting her lip.

‘He’s…he’s got great prospects, as you know…’

Ollie snorted, derisively.

‘And…what we had was fun, and you’re very sweet, but you don’t have the best reputation…’ she said, avoiding his eyes.

‘Oh, right!’ Ollie snapped, his temper rising. ‘I get it. Snuggle up to the guy with all the cash and all the influence. Well, I hope you’ll be very happy together, and I’m sure he’ll get along famously with your racist fucking Dad – ‘

She slapped his face, her gold ring catching him. Ollie staggered back, clutching at his face. Blood started coursing slowly from his nose. She put a hand against her own face in shock.

‘Oh Christ, Ollie, I’m sorry…’ she said.

‘Fuck off,’ Ollie snapped. He seized the door handle and stormed out.

He ducked into the nearest gents’ toilet, and took a length of toilet paper from the holder in one of the cubicles, and tried to staunch the stream of blood from his right nostril. Then the door opened with a crash.

‘Oi-oi!’ Cal Richards shouted as he walked in. ‘Just going for a piss. Don’t mind me.’

Ollie ignored him, gazing at his own flushed, mournful reflection. Blood was still dripping onto the tissue he clutched in his trembling right hand.

‘Wassat?’ he heard Cal yell from the urinal. ‘Nosebleed? Had too much of the old Bolivian marching-powder?’

‘No,’ Ollie muttered. Christ, he thought, I just want to get out of here. He heard Cal zipping his trousers.

‘Emma’s fucking dumped ya, hasn’t she? Awww, diddums,’ Cal sneered.

‘Yeah,’ Ollie said.

‘Don’t fucking blame her. Everyone knows you’re a fucking queer cunt,’ Cal said, casually.

Ollie turned to face him, his heart breaking with weariness.

‘I don’t give a shit what you think of me, Cal. Oh, and you can relax, by the way, I don’t fancy stupid tossers. So, fuck off,’ Ollie said, as he headed for the door. Cal blocked his path.

‘Oh, I think you will give a fucking shit about the footage I’ve found on Emma’s phone,’ Cal leered.

‘What do you fucking mean? That’s stealing!’ Ollie said, rattled.

‘Yeah, very fucking interesting. There’s one scene with Tucker’s and MacDonald’s cocks in your pretty, nancy-boy mouth. Bet you fucking enjoyed that, didn’t you?’

Cal rocked back on his heels and gloated up at Ollie’s stunned, furious face.

‘No wonder she’s fucking left you for a real man, ya weaselly, feeble, poncey excuse for a – ‘ 

‘You little cunt!’ Ollie snarled.

He threw a punch at Cal. Cal neatly side-stepped him, then punched him hard in the stomach. Ollie collapsed on the tiled floor, groaning. Cal kicked him in the ribs, then stood over him.

‘And I’d fucking kick you again, if I didn’t know you’d get a semi-on from it.’

‘I’m gonna report you…’ Ollie gasped.

‘Ya know, I’d really advise you not to do that. Not unless you want yer dirty shenanigans to end up on YouTube and Tumblr and in all the fucking tabloids. I dunno. DoSAC. Bunch of fucking benders. I’d give up now, mate. We’ve won the election already.’

Ollie heard Cal laugh mockingly as he walked out. He picked himself up off the floor and headed to the far cubicle, locking it and sitting on the closed seat, as the tears of pain and grief started to fall.

Fucking hell, he thought. I’ve lost everything. Nothing else for it, I’m gonna have to go and get incredibly fucking drunk. 

He rested his head against the cold brick wall. His ribs hurt and his stomach burned, but it was nothing compared to the aching, agonising void in his chest where his heart used to be. He placed his head in his hands and sobbed, quietly, sure of one thing:

He needed a doctor.


End file.
